


With Friends Like These

by Gothwolf19



Series: A Blight Amongst Us [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alistair Can't Cook, Alistair is not who he seems, Alistair the naughty Chantry boy, Canon Divergence, Character Development, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gay Warden, Love/hate relationships, M/M, Mages vs. Templars, Other, Skeletons In The Closet, Slow Build, devout Alistair, immature jokes, pop-culture references, rite of conscription, trust building, various points of view
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 23:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19094905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothwolf19/pseuds/Gothwolf19
Summary: The fifth blight is on Ferelden's doorstep and Duncan is testing against time and his own patience to gather as many recruits as he can. Elissa Cousland, Lyna Mahariel, Theron Mahariel, Duran Aeducan, Kallian Tabris, Alistair, Alim and Daylen have to work together to fight the darkspawn, and themselves, to save Thedas. Will they put aside their differences and lead a powerful army, or will they be the cause of mankind's destruction?





	With Friends Like These

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, Sairynn26 here! I had to make a new account, I lost my login information for my other one. I'm doing okay, to those who read my chapters on my other page. Last year, my family had tough times and we literally lost everything, so we could survive. Homelessness was a bitch. We have a new home we moved into 5 months ago, it took a while to get the luxury of secure internet once again. I will be continuing my other stories, maybe edit them heavily. Enjoy this one guys, and I hope to read your feedback. My stories aren't beta-read, so if I have grammatical errors, or if something I typed is wrong, tell me! That's why you guys are here, writers and readers bettering one another. 
> 
> I will mention that some of the content are based on assumptions, I will not claim to know everything. Horseback riding, for example, I do not have a clue on, so I depend on research, as much as the next person.

Deep sighs of relief broke the silence on the outskirts of the Brecilian forest. It was a long trip, but the end was getting closer. First Orzammar, then Kinloch Hold, followed by Redcliffe, Highever, Denerim, and now the Brecilian forest, hoping the Dalish elves have some recruits for the cause. So far they managed eight recruits, ranging from noble born families to petty criminals, wanting a way out. Only once did Duncan have to invoke the rite to conscript, hopefully there wouldn’t be another opportunity. If the rite had to be invoked once, chances are more were to come.

“The sun is setting, should we make camp now?” asks Alistair, who has been accompanying Duncan for a little over a month now, conscripting potential recruits for the Grey Wardens. The are two downsides to riding horseback: Chafed legs and stiff backs. Even the best riders know when to set limits, but time was of the essence. 

He was right though. The sun has reached below the tree lines and traveling after hours whether on the road or sheathed in the shadows of the woods bodes ill for anyone, armed and armored or not. The fifth blight was standing on their doorstep, and in the Brecilian forest, there were rumors deep within of werewolves. “We will set up camp here. Let us make haste tying the horses and setting perimeters.” 

Within the hour, the perimeter was established, the horses were tied, a campfire was lit and tents were set. Just in time too, as darkness has already fallen within the trees, before the open fields. The Brecilian has been known as one of the most beautiful of forests, but also the most dense. It is easy to get lost in such places if one does not know which way to go. Correction, even an experienced tracker has lost himself in these woods on occasion, slowly going mad from wandering in circles, and in the highest state of stress-induced hysteria, they have supposedly hallucinated seeing anything from demons to the rumored werewolves. They are only rumors at this point, as no one who was lost has escaped to tell the tales.

“How do you know the Keeper to this clan anyway?” inquired Alistair, chewing on a boiled potato that he somehow burned. It was one of his leftovers from lunch. They had to pass through Lothering to resupply and were two hours outside of the village when they decided to make camp in a nearby mouth of a cave. The Maker decided to grace them with a sudden thunderstorm, killing their time a good few hours. How does someone burn a potato, even though it was completely submerged in water anyway? He had no clue whatsoever. Cooking wasn’t his strongsuit at all. “The Dalish don’t seem too fond of humans-- or anyone not part of the clans, anyway. I even heard they don’t like elves from the alienages!”

“Fair question. I don’t particularly know too much about her or the clan, outside of seeing a few of the clan members within a neighboring village, trading wares. The Keeper herself wasn’t in town, but one of her mage underlings was. She walked into the market district with a few of her clans hunters, buying books and herbs that didn’t grow in the area. A bandit had apparently snuck his way into the town and. . .” He paused for a moment, collecting himself. His fists were clinched, knuckles shades lighter than his dark flesh. It was difficult explaining to Marethari herself as to what happened to her when the hunters invited him to the clan. She was innocent, and if he had the capability to save all the innocent, he would. Too bad he can’t be everywhere at one time. “No matter, let it be a story she herself can tell you. It was three years ago.” 

"So I will meet this girl and this Keeper, then." It wasn't a question, and the tone in his Alistair’s voice. was off into his own world. For someone being devout and growing up in the Chantry, he was just as perverse as any other hormone-crazed youth. What does she look like? Does she smell good? Does she have curves? How about long hair, I love long hair. Are elves really hairless apart from the hair on their heads and brows? Those thoughts made blood go to his groin, causing him to groan. It was Elissa Cousland all over again. Elissa was a spit-fire, that’s for sure. Curves, muscle, blonde hair, ice cold eyes, and the commanding voice of a war general was most definitely a mix that sent blood rushing to Alistair’s cock, faster than a bursting dam. 

A stress headache formed in Duncan’s temple at Alistair’s audacity. Maker’s breath, the boy is going to be the death of him. They finished their meal in awkward silence, It was Alistair’s turn to take the first watch, so if he wanted to take a gamble and chuck some dice, Duncan made damn sure he was in his tent, facing away from him. It was a long journey and his old bones needed to rest, but the sudden silence of the forest gave them pause, and Duncan raised a hand to alert the junior warden before he went too crazy. Not a single cricket chirped and the hooting of the owls ceased. The tiny hairs on the back of their necks stood on end at the bad omen. 

“Do you hear that Alistair?” Duncan asked, a warning tone.

“I hear nothing.” 

That was the only words Alistair was capable to speak before an arrow whooshed past his head into a nearby tree, and the stench of rot permeated the air. The darkspawn have sensed them, and it was these moments that killed his mood. 

“On your guard, Alistair!” Duncan commanded, on his feet and blades at the ready before his junior warden raised his sword and shield. Scrambling to his feet, Alistair barely had the time to raise his shield before a Hurlock had jumped out of the shadows, slamming the bunt of its war axe, almost making Alistair lose his footing. If the darkspawn here out here, then it was only a matter of time before a bulk of the main horde were to bypass Ostagar entirely, instead ravaging the land before the forces at Ostagar were to have a chance to push them back. They had to get recruits and quickly.

'Dodge, duck, dip, dive, dodge’ was Alistair’s mantra, as more of the darkspawn exposed themselves from the tree lines, the leader of the small squad being an emissary. They were surrounded, and it was only a matter of time before more of the fiends found them and made them their late night meal.

**Author's Note:**

> 1.) Poor Alistair, he can never catch a break. 
> 
> 2.) Duncan, in my personal opinion, is seen as a father-figure type of man, especially having a softer heart toward children. He couldn't bear it himself to tell Alistair what happened among the Dalish. 
> 
> 3.) The first few chapters will be varying points of view, to introduce you to the Warden recruits, before things go downhill from there.


End file.
